Bitter
by Pureauthor
Summary: He shook his head. 'I can't find it in me to believe she was a bad person, General. I just can't.' A supposal story.


Bitter

(X)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

(X)

_He was glad he could not see the dead face. He wondered what the man's name was and where he came from; and if he was really evil at heart, or what lies and threats had led him on the long march from his home, and if he would not really rather have stayed there in peace – The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers_

(X)

The exhausted young knight slumped down on a grassy outcropping several feet away from the imposing stone wall of the fortress. The fiery-red of the setting sun splashed orange over the landscape, causing the lad to duck his heard slightly, averting his eyes from looking directly at the burning globe.

He sat there for several minutes, taking deep gulps of the air. Finally, he closed his eyes and steeled himself for what remained of his task.

He ran a grimy hand through his messy blonde hair, his face smeared with soil and dirt and dried sweat. With a slow measured pace, he returned to the hole in the ground. Nearby, a rusty shovel lay unattended.

With a grunt, he picked it up and once more began to flail at the soil, scattering chunks and gobs of it over the general area.

He paused, glanced back and forth – it was almost complete – just a few more inches or so off that side…

"I was wondering where you were." The slow, measured voice of his General floated up behind him. The young knight paused, before slowly turning to face his superior.

"Apologies, General."

"No need for that. You're still off-duty for the rest of the day. I merely wished to know what you had been doing."

He nodded in deference, and returned to the digging. After several more minutes, he stepped back, letting the tool fall to the ground. "It should be deep enough." He said, to no one in particular.

His General stood silent for a moment before speaking. "Why do you consider this necessary?"

There was a pause as both parties – both _living_ parties – turned to regard the still form of the girl on the ground, her eyes closed, a serene expression seemingly etched on her face. It was the complete stillness of her body – no measured rise and fall of her chest, no flutter of the eyelashes – that bore mute testimony to the truth of her silent form.

The knight gazed at the cadaver, feeling a single tear sliding down his cheek – angry emotion still trying to find an exit. "I just –" He began haltingly. "I just feel she deserves… _more_, you know? I don't – she shouldn't be consigned to a mass grave like all the others – I just… I just know it, somehow."

_It had begun haphazardly enough. The enemy soldiers they encountered in the courtyard fell quickly. Within minutes, the gates to the inner fortress were under siege._

_When it had shattered, the others charged in, and he along with them. At the gates, many of the enemy soldiers had spilled their blood, bravely defending their homeland. But the white fury of the attacking party burned fiercer, and soon they had broken through._

_As he stepped past the crumpled remnants of the main gate, he heard a sound. Steel against stone. A boot rapping against the floor._

_And from the darkness, a gleaming lance point, aimed at him._

_He knocked it aside, before slashing quickly at his opponent's midsection. A fast, simple attack, meant simply to buy him time to set up a proper defensive stance._

_There was the sound of metal tearing through flesh, and a cry of pain sounded off the granite walls._

_His attacker – a young girl, no older than him – staggered back, clutching her torn stomach. The dark red gash was all too apparent, as was the fear, pain, and dread in her eyes._

_The world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them, as she crumpled to the floor, the lifeblood steadily ebbing away._

_All he could remember in those precious seconds was staring into her eyes, seeing fear, panic, confusion… and a silent plea for help._

_That had been what he'd wanted to do. Help. Kneel down beside her, comfort her in her final moments. He wanted to take some of the dread, the pain._

_But he'd done nothing. He'd merely gazed silently at her eyes as the confusion and fear slowly slipped away, fading to a weary, blank gaze, and then the awful, crushing emptiness._

He swallowed, the memory still fresh in his mind. Perhaps it would haunt him to the end of his days. "I can't find it in me to believe she was a bad person, General. I just can't."

His mentor nodded. "I understand what you mean. This is partly why I hoped you would never have to truly fight in a war."

The young knight nodded, licked his lips. Walking over to the cold body, he lifted it up gently, before carrying her over to the freshly dug grave.

Slowly, he laid her down in the dry earth, before stepping back. A last, longing gaze was cast upon her still face. And then, together, the two of them began filling up the grave.

The stars had made their appearance in the night sky by the time the young knight finally stamped down the last clod of topsoil. "That should do it."

"…" The general stood respectfully over the gravesite for a few more moments, before turning and heading away.

He stepped forward, drawing his blade as he did so. In the faint light of the moon, the blade gleamed silver… bar the parts that had been stained with her blood.

Kneeling, his repositioned the sword so that it pointed towards the soil. A single moment of hesitation, and then he plunged it into the cold earth. Let it serve as a marker, he thought bitterly. Until the sun and the rain rust it to shards.

He remained crouched down there for a very long time, pondering.

"Rest." He finally uttered, softly quoting a poem written in a time out of memory. "Rest now, sweet soldier. For you the war is over."

Standing, he turned and began to walk away towards the campsite, where fires would be burning, and there would be feasting, and people could pretend they were still sane.

(X)

Thank you for reading. Please review.


End file.
